Drabbles from Sketchbook Revelations
by PolkaDotMama
Summary: Drabbles from various characters in my main story Sketchbook Revelations. 100 word stories based on prompts.
1. Jasper's Drabbles

Jasper's Drabbles

Drabbles are 100 word short stories that are based on a prompt word. Naelany provided these for me. Thanks, bb. Hope you enjoy Japser's drabbles.

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**Fists**

It took so little  
But I lay in wet earth,  
Cowering under his loathsome gaze.  
Fiery words hissed past venomous teeth.

She thought she'd feign exhaustion  
But the dark under her eye was his doing.  
Make-up dabbed on with a ring finger,  
She thought her secret was safe.

I never expected it to happen this way,  
Not this bad, so fast.  
Autumn strands slid down my chest.  
I failed him.

As my knuckles made contact with his jaw,  
I felt wet earth envelop me.  
I heard dirty words fall from my mouth.  
I felt my soul split.

I'd become Jack.

* * *

**Fall**

I threaded my fingers through fall; reds, oranges, gold, bronze. His mouth on my neck seared my flesh and I pulled him closer, silently begging for him to take more of me, to make me his own. "Please. Harder," I finally begged him and felt his teeth sink into skin and muscle and soul. He took a piece of me as the pleasure spread in spider webs from the spot he bit. My body rocked, moved by the motion of his effort and I cried out his name as I felt him inside me.

I wanted this more than life.

* * *

**Typography**

Seemingly simple, yet so complex;  
Letters, consonants, vowels, blends.  
Meanings are multiple but so much more.  
Finding the correct one to grab their attention,  
Scatter their senses and  
Draw them back in to see _my_ meaning.

Do I use the elegance of serifs or  
Strive for simplicity and stay san serif?  
What will that tell the viewer?  
Is that what I want?

But the only thing that matters is the perceived message.  
Will he understand?  
Will he see the layers beneath the words?  
Will he see the words beneath the layers?  
Will he know I love him still?

I do.

* * *

**Scheming**

I hide in open places  
As his eyes pry me open.  
What's in my mind  
Is unspeakable.

As I bend over,  
I feel his gaze.  
I hear his tongue gliding  
Across lush, red lips.

I take my time and let him look,  
Slowly standing erect.  
I hope he finds I'm all he desires.  
I hope he sees I'm all he'll ever need.

Leisurely my fingers trail through my curls,  
Golden wheat falls against pale skin.  
I can tell he sees what he likes.  
I entice him and I do my best to draw him in.

I hope I'm his everything.

* * *

**Bright**

Washing over our bodies,  
Bathing us in yellow light,  
I feel her power and want to flee.  
Sol is warm and welcoming  
To everyone else.

But she burns me and makes me taste blood.  
I bite back my desires as  
He watches in all innocence  
Not sensing the pain I feel,  
The lingering ache that never leaves my limbs.

If I could pull him to me,  
Wrap my arms around his narrow waist  
Skim my hands up his back  
Feel his heartbeat through his shirt.  
If he could be mine,

I'd burn under Sol just to feel his skin again.

* * *

Please Review. I'd love to see what you think. :D


	2. Carlisle's Drabbles

Again, I must thank Naelany for these prompts and this time for Carlisle's POV. I guess she wanted to see more from him. **Dawn** starts out when Edward and Jasper were still in high school, **Security** moves to after the time that Edward and Jasper are together and are spending time with Carlisle and Esme. The rest is pretty easy to figure out, me thinks. Enjoy.

* * *

**Carlisle's Drabbles**

**Dawn**

A busy night at the ER, death all around me but I do my best to shake it off as I walk into the sanctuary of my home. She has already made coffee, knowing I'll want to spend time with Edward.

As I open the door to his room, the sunlight spills through the windows and lands on two boys wrapped in each other's embrace. Their mouths are mere centimeters apart and as Jasper purses his lips in sleep, their mouths touch. Edward instinctively kisses him and says his name.

It's at that moment I realize my son is gay.

* * *

**Security**

I see how he's changed, how joy pours out of him and I know the source. Yet I see the subtle hesitancy, the way he makes sure that all Jasper's needs are met before his. I wonder if he even feels it.

He has loved his friend for so long that he seems to be giving up part of himself. But I can see how much Jasper loves him. I see him burning for Edward. I hear him talking and sharing his feelings. He's his own man.

I hope it lasts, for both of their sakes.

They need each other.

* * *

**Cover**

It was everywhere, oozing into the crisp white sheet below him, spreading in abstract patterns as he was wheeled past the automatic doors. When I turned back to the ambulance, I saw my son, stunned, terrified and in anguish, crimson dripping from his fingertips.

I pulled him to my chest as we walked, attempting to shelter him from the fear but this was no longer something a father could ease away with a hug and well thought-out words. This was his reality. A reality I'd heard about but never _knew_ until then.

He was much stronger than I ever knew.

* * *

**Sense**

What was Jack thinking? I knew he was a violent man but I had no idea he was a bit touched until I saw how out of control he got. But I had to tend Edward and make sure Jasper was going to hold his emotions together.

I _had_ to say something. This could _not_ be ignored.

Everything Jack said made me angrier but I held it in and said what I needed to say. I relaxed only after he noisily drove away.

Jasper was my son now and I would gladly do everything that Jack was incapable of doing.

* * *

**Understanding**

I had to put on my doctor's face as Jasper confessed to me, at least initially. Soon though, the father came to the surface and I knew why this dear boy had gone down that horrible road. (Curse his damned father.) I didn't like it, but I got it and it was my job to be there for him in that moment. I could be there for Edward later.

And I was.

As Edward lay on the couch, I sat, letting him know that I was there for him and always would be.

They both needed me. I'm their dad.


	3. Rosalie's Drabbles

AN: Again, thanks to Naelany for these prompts. These are so much fun to do. :D

* * *

**Rosalie's Drabbles**

**Observing**

The acoustic guitar rang through the speakers in time with the windshield wipers. I saw them in the backyard as I drove up the long drive, the canopy of trees protecting my view. They were running, frolicking like young children, throwing the ball in the soggy yard. Edward took Jasper down and I saw a moment of hesitation in both of their eyes as their bodies were pressed together. Time seemed to stop. Edward stood and held out his hand, helping my brother rise, but their fingers lingered, interlacing as they walked toward the house. I honked and fingers dropped.

* * *

**Cover**

I learned to see it in Daddy's eyes and knew to get Jasper out of the house.

He was still young, aloof. He wasn't suspicious of the newfound quality time I demanded. He was my little brother and I needed to protect him. I'd be leaving in mere weeks.

He didn't need to know that the man he loved was a bastard. He didn't need to know that our father beat our mother because Jasper and Edward had slept entwined in his bed. What good would it do?

I'd wrap my arms around Jasper. Keep him safe while I could.

* * *

**Rigid**

Dad was always like that, structured and hyper-vigilant. I'd see him roll his eyes as Jasper would draw and mumble things under his fiery breath like, "waste of time" and "never going to make a living." He pushed Jasper harder than he did me. I'd find him crying in his room, positive that dad didn't love him, that he'd never be able to make him proud.

That's all Jasper ever wanted, but he didn't fit into dad's mold and he never would. How would dad handle Jasper's sexual revelation? Either way, he would have me and I'd be there.

Always.

* * *

**Truth**

I felt slapped across the face as the sounds poured out of the speakers and penetrated the room; sounds of my baby brother disgracing himself. All the blood seemed to pool in my feet and I staggered, caught by my Emmett. Commotion drew my haunted gaze to Jasper's, terror filled and looking at me with pleading, apologetic eyes.

Shouting, fists and poisonous words.

Breaking glass.

Shattered dreams.

His broken body lay bleeding, spilling all over his lover's hands. I grabbed her, pulling her hair, dragging her away from the boy I protected for years.

You won't take him from me!

* * *

**Fury**

He picks up on the fourth ring, sleep still evident in his voice. "Jasper's seriously injured. They're trying to save his life."

"Rose? Talk to your mother. This is really her thing."

I tell Mom and can hear her bustling around the room, unzipping her suitcase, opening and closing drawers. She fears driving in the city so I promise to meet her and drive. When she arrives I ask why he stayed. Excuses of a shattered woman. She's been burned by him too many times to argue. Not me.

The phone rings and I go off the second he answers.


	4. Edward's Drabbles

More Drabbles, this time from Edward. This is mostly from the time when Edward and Jasper were apart, aside from _Simple_ which happens after their first fight.

For those of you about to tell me you'd prefer a chapter of **Sketchbook Revelations **over Drabbles, know that it is with my betas as we speak and it will either be two chapters or one HUGE one. I NEVER have abandoned SR, nor do I plan on it. The Drabbles have been a way for me to find my character's voices again and also gives me the opportunity to broaden and deepen your experience as a reader. Enjoy.

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**Edward's Drabbles**

* * *

**Simple**

It was never straightforward with us, and that was fine, expected, wonderful! I never wanted it to be simple: not ever with Jasper. I wanted complex, involved, multifarious. That was what made us tick.

He'd say one word and from there we'd go; building and pulling and finding connections between seemingly unrelated things. A conversation few could follow.

And as I sit in my car, thinking he's simply afraid of telling the world about loving me, I realize that it's so much more. He's afraid of losing his parents. But hadn't he already lost them? Hadn't they already abandoned him?

* * *

**White**

I had nothing to put down on the blank paper before me. It had all moved on with Jasper, with his belongings, with his art, with his spirit. The lack of color on the paper mocked me, taunting me to make a change, one that I wasn't willing to attempt, let alone imagine. I was as empty as the pages in my sketchbook.

When I finally ventured into the studio and worked beside him in the happy sun, the canvas ridiculed the attempts of my brush to cover the white with sepia and red. I didn't listen. I simply painted.

* * *

**Simmer**

Ten thousand bubbles rising to the surface in such a distinct pattern, but I have no idea what their intent truly is. It's how I feel inside as Jasper reaches for me and tells me he burns for me. How do I tell him that my fire for him was never completely put out when I'm not sure I want it stoked, for the flames to be encouraged? Perhaps I want to douse the blaze with ten thousand bubbles. Perhaps I want to gather kindling from the grassy earth, inducing fire. For now I simmer and wait for an answer.

* * *

**Horizon**

Standing on the grounding earth, pulled down momentarily by his gravity, I fix my eyes on the horizon. Dawn or dusk? The colors are so much the same. Pinks, oranges, purples, blues. Am I looking toward the beginning or the ending of us? Are we done? Do I walk away from all I've ever known; from the person who fills me and makes me better? Perhaps I stride forward and fall into his arms, finding the place that I've always belonged and forget about the pain and the betrayal and the loss.

Dawn or dusk?

Beginning or ending?

Together. Alone.

* * *

**Core**

I can feel it vibrate inside of me whenever he's near, deep in my core.

Only him.

He's the only one who's ever made me feel like this: completely and utterly alive. Even in my misery and heartache, I felt him deep in my soul, pulling, tugging and mending the broken pieces back together.

Only him.

I peel back the layers, exposing my heart in the center of the labyrinth, climbing into his lap, trying to let him know so many things with this gesture. I trust you. I'll go anywhere with you. I'll be vulnerable for you.

Only you.


	5. Jack's Drabbles

**AN:** These are Jack Whitlock's Drabbles, Jasper's father. **Warning:** There is hate speech, stereotypes and name calling in these Drabbles. Reading through, I believe your understanding of Jack will be dramatically increased. The words coming from his thoughts do NOT reflect my thinking AT ALL!

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**Jack's Drabbles**

**Fear**

The earlier the better, I told myself as I rose before the sun and ambled about the house in preparation for my day off. Elise was sound asleep. Rosalie was slumbering. As I made my way to Jasper's room, I pushed the door open to make sure he was resting peacefully. The soft contented noises he made as a child could be heard. I hadn't heard that in years. Stepping into his room, I saw two boys, arms and legs tangled around each other, lips only inches away. When Edward moved, Jasper pulled him closer.

I froze.

"Please, God. No!"

* * *

**Fail**

Everything I'd done hadn't made a difference. The words, the actions, the lessons I taught so that he would be a true man. I'd failed.

As he ran from me like a fucking sissy, tripping over a simple root, I gained control and hit him. No son of mine was going to fail at being a man. No son of mine was going to be another man's bitch. Where had I gone wrong?

But I hadn't. She had. His mother had coddled him, breastfed him too long, carried him when he could walk. And now he had become a failure.

* * *

**Empty**

Retirement. Nothingness. Empty space. My entire career was gone in the blink of an eye. A ceremony then poof. What did I have to show for it? Money, a pension, benefits. But what did _I_ have? Nothing. All those years and then I sit behind a desk in a job that I hate. Does anyone appreciate what I did? Rosalie supports herself. Jasper tries and succeeds only with the help of his friend, the faggot. I just hope I filled his head with the right messages. He needs to be a man who relies on only himself. Autonomous. A man.

* * *

**Truth**

I'd suspected for years, but he never showed signs after sleeping with the queer. He was never a fucking fairy or Nancy boy, prancing around limp wristed and lisping up a storm. So, how could he openly admit he was gay? It didn't make sense to me. It didn't fit.

But neither did the queer, Edward.

"He's still your son," Carlisle said, going on about what a wonderful man that Jasper was. How could he be a good man and still suck cock?

Jasper and Edward laid in bed kissing and I shuddered, but I saw love in their eyes.

* * *

**Thirst**

It was there, tugging at me from behind, but I ignored it, drinking from the cold fountain but never getting filled up. I was a man, young and brave, joining the ranks so I could prove myself.

Only once, in the middle of combat as I was hunkered down for days, away from my fountain for months, did I allow it to finally happen. With sweet dirt in my face, he took me from behind with my arms restrained in his hands. It had never been like that with her. It had never been like that with anyone. Pure bliss.

* * *

**Wan**

Away from the battle, away from _him_, I stood looking at myself in the mirror, examining the sickly pallor and drawn features that were haunted further by my dark brown eyes. How could I have found pleasure in _that_, in being disgraced by another man?"

But at night, he was whom I dreamed of, not my beautiful wife at home who was pregnant with my son, and it sickened me further. Depression reigned amidst pleasurable dreams.

Jasper was born with a head of thick, curly hair and I knew he'd be a man. I'd do everything to ensure his masculinity.


	6. Outsider's Drabbles

I wrote these for On The Turning Away for her birthday. She has always been able to look at Edward & Jasper's relationship and see not only the finer points but also how their actions affect the big picture. So each of these drabbles is from a different outsider's POV. Who is writing isn't nearly as important as what they are seeing, though I did have someone in mind for each one. Melooza gave me the prompts. I added Elements because I wanted to do five and well…it fit. ;)

~Posy/PolkaDotMama

**Air**

'Round and 'round the room they walk, nowhere near each other but they seem to sense each other's presence. I watch as Edward describes his painting to an attentive guest. He gestures towards Jasper; unaware that the credit he could take as solely his own is being shared with his lover through his body language. Jasper does the same.

I watch as they come together to discuss a piece. Fingers immediately seek and find. Smiles. Passion.

Then I see it. They both physically relax the moment they inhale, taking in the scent that speaks so much louder than words.

Home.

**Fire**

Polite conversations happen around sandwiches and ice-cold bottles of beer while the graduates are lauded. I watch as Jasper pulls out the lawn games and Edward gives a knowing smile to him before they get everyone involved.

They slip away to the studio where they are confident that they've taken all precautions, but they forgot about me. I watch from my kitchen as they leave fiery trails of passion over nearly every inch of skin.

Edward looks down at Jasper with fervent love while Jasper reaches out.

I feel the heat next door.

I'll deliver a basket of muffins tomorrow.

**Water **

Tense shoulders, tight eyes, jaw that flexes in a steady beat. I see how Jasper's muscles coil from his momentary confrontation. His entire body is alive and ready to pounce if he needs to.

Hard as stone.

Edward's words from across the room are like a refreshing rain to Jasper, alerting his mind of his rigid pose.

His face responds in a smile the moment their eyes meet.

A touch.

His shoulders drop with a release of his breath.

A caress, like a river down his back.

Jasper soaks in everything Edward has to offer and feels his edges smooth.

**Earth**

I watch as Edward responds to the emotions in the room, trying to meet everyone's needs and forgetting about his own. Filling cups, talking to the sad friend, laughing heartily at a bad joke. He feels so deeply it's as if his empathy runs through his veins.

But underneath I see he wants to get away. He's overwhelmed.

Jasper simply rests his palm on the small of Edward's back. His shoulders broaden with confidence.

"If you'll excuse us?"

Edward leads them away, grasping Jasper's fingers, retreating out the door.

When they come back, Edward sits next to Jasper and relaxes.

**Elements**

Balanced and fulfilled, I sense how content Edward and Jasper are now. It's evident in the way they look and touch and even breathe around each other. It's genuine love, filled out and honest.

I can see it all displayed in one kiss, as they breathe each other in and slowly shut their eyes. The rush of sweet breath across their cheeks alights their senses. The intense passion burning deep as they draw each other close. The relaxation that their kiss instills ripples through them. And when they pull apart they appear grounded.

Love where everything has fallen in place.


	7. Edward & Jasper Drabbles

These were written for Naelany's birthday. She turned me onto drabbles so I thought I'd write some for her birthday. This is from Edward and Jasper's POV, three from each. The prompts were graciously shared by mrsyt31.

~Posy

* * *

_**Edward**_

**Ocher**

Ocher. Such an ugly color.

The color of mud: cracked and dry beneath my feet.  
The color of spice: intense and burning my mouth.  
The color of wood: varied yet somehow constant.  
The color of earth: grounding and solid, like gravity.

I feel it.

The color of curls: gold and brown and yellow and sunlight.

There is something there that I haven't seen for weeks: a quiet strength that is growing just under the surface.

I study and paint, trying to reveal what I see, what I sense in him. It's all radiance.

Ocher. The most beautiful color I've seen.

**Porcelain**

So smooth under my fingertips as I trace again and again. My hand can't seem to get enough of the feel; the way the tiny imperfections are barely noticed until I concentrate on seeking them out.

I know them by heart. I touch them with reverence in the same way every time. My mouth aches to kiss them lightly.

But he's begging for more of me. He aches for my cock in his ass to be buried deeper and hit him just so. We cry out together.

I kiss his scars as I've craved since the moment he turned over.

**Persuasive**

I can hear him in his bathroom, showering, shaving, brushing his teeth while I lie on his unmade bed. There's no reason to pull the sheet up over my chest. I'll be leaving his room the second he departs for work. Perhaps I'll return to sleep with him if I'm not already passed out.

I want us to sleep together each and every night in our bed.

Our clothes piled together and our socks getting mixed up.

Our hearts beating against heated skin and sharing the naked truth he craves.

There must be a way to persuade him it's right.

* * *

_**Jasper**_

**Haze**

He stands underneath the streetlight patiently. The only reason I can see him is because of the ethereal glow. Otherwise he'd be lost in the mist and haze of the fine rain and shadowy midnight.

I can't stand it anymore. There's more to do but I need to be closer to him.

I walk out.

His back is to the door and the sound of my steps are muted by the rain.

I finger his hair.

His face lights up as he turns to me. I taste his mouth and smile.

Zoë shouts from inside that she'll finish-up for me.

**Undulating**

It moves and shifts with the subtlest of kinetic energy, forming waves and eddies that can be felt and seen.

This is his sanctuary, it seems, so we come and he swims and pushes himself. I watch and swim. But mostly watch how his body moves with the currents, riding them, affecting them, creating them.

The waves are moving with fury but I'm helping this time.

I ride his dick. Water splashes. Ripples are formed.

I ride him hard.

He fucks me hard.

Long after we come I can still feel the waves of our love on the water's surface.

**Effervescent**

They rise in tiny, slim lines to the top of the narrow glass as I make my way through the gallery greeting people I know intimately and those whose faces are utterly foreign to me. I've seen every single piece that is hanging on these walls yet I look at his pieces in the magnificent lighting and see them transformed.

And then I see the one that has caused him the most heartache.

It's powerful and terrifying and angry.

But as I look deeper, I see the hidden messages buried in tiny, slim lines making their way through the pain.

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AN: In case you didn't know, The Slash Awards are taking nominations again. Go nom your fave slash stories for all sorts of fun categories. Slash deserves to be recognized! http:/theslashawards (dot) blogspot (dot) com


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